To Flicker and Fade
by Raven Aorla
Summary: Each chapter is a meditation upon the sorrows of immortality and separation, and the strengths of hope and love. As this is my first story, constructive comments would be great. Now complete.
1. Sailing Far From Home

Joy and Sorrow Everlasting  
  
This story is for Diana, who introduced me to fanfiction and loves The Lord of the Rings as much as I do. I miss you as much as the Elves missed Middle- Earth after they left it.  
  
Anything that you even remotely recognize belongs forever to J.R.R. Tolkien, not me. Don't even bother reading this if you haven't read the book, it will make no sense to people who've only seen the movies. A little knowledge of the appendices is useful, as is having read The Silmarillion. However, for those of you that are unable or unlikely to read the Silm, I will put explanatory notes about references to it at the bottom of each page.  
  
Chapter 1: Sailing Far From Home  
  
It was the eve of Lady Galadriel's departure to the Undying Lands. She had been reprieved from the Doom of Mandos long ago, but she had needed time to bid farewell to the golden woods of her kingdom. Tearing away from a place that had been your home for thousands of years is never an easy task. Yet her longing for Valinor, her birthplace, was just as strong. She had not seen it for two Ages, and her memories were beginning to fade. Galadriel also wished to be with her beloved daughter once more. The centuries had passed without notice, and it was only when looking back did she realize how much time has flown by her.  
  
Undoubtedly the most difficult part of her leaving Arda was Celeborn. Her husband wished to remain in Middle-Earth for a while longer. He had lived in this forest since before the moon was part of the night sky. Valinor had no hold upon him, for he had never seen it. Celeborn knew that he must go someday, but not yet. It had been a very difficult decision for both of them, as neither of them knew when he would be following his wife. Neither of them could bear the thought of being parted for any amount of time, but their other needs made this necessary.  
  
These thoughts were what kept Galadriel awake this night. She sat by the window of their bedroom, gazing at the trees that she would never lay eyes upon again. A terrible sense of desolation filled her heart as she thought of leaving this land and her love behind. Valinor seemed like a distant dream, a dream for which she was to cast away a life that had been hers since the First Age. Galadriel looked back at her husband as if to etch his image into her mind. He was lying on the bed with his eyes open, and, as all Elves sleep this way, she had no idea whether he was awake or not.  
  
She wondered if he was glad that she was leaving. It must be tiresome having a queen that overshadows you in every respect, she thought. I am the only she-elf to bear a ring of power, the only one to be the ruler over a kingdom, the only being on this side of the sea to look into the hearts and minds of others. Does Celeborn resent that? Does he regret having married me? Or am I being foolish, making decisions based on doubts? Why do I fear this step I am taking? I wish I could speak now to him about my thoughts. I haven't needed his help so much since .I cannot remember. I haven't worried about these things since our daughter left for the Havens. Why did Illuvatar decide for the fate of the Elves to be this way, to diminish instead of dying? Why did he give men the opposite fate? My thoughts are filled with the whys that cannot be answered. And tomorrow it will be too late to talk to Celeborn. If I knew that he were awake I would ask him.  
  
No sooner had she thought this than the king of Lothlorien rose and sat down beside Galadriel. "Should you not be resting, my love?" he asked her with concern in his voice. He was speaking Sindarin, of course, the language of his people. "You depart early tomorrow. I do not wish for you to be too weary for the long journey."  
  
The love in his words banished all her previous fears. Galadriel was now certain that he felt as much pain about their coming separation as she did. Her relief, combined with the sense of loss that she already felt, moved her to tears. This shocked Celeborn, who had not seen her cry for centuries. He held her close to him and said nothing, letting the tears fall down her cheeks and waiting for her to speak. After being married for millennia both of them knew perfectly how to comfort the other. Neither of them made a sound for several minutes. Celeborn knew that his wife was reading his emotions to find out if he felt as heartbroken as she did, and was gathering her thoughts together.  
  
Finally, she whispered, "This forest is so very dear to me, Celeborn. My heart is already filled with the pain of leaving it forever, and the pain of leaving you for no one knows how long. I am afraid. Why does it have to be this way? Why have we had to live so long as to witness the end of our time in Arda? Why must we bear witness to every tragedy that ever occurred since the sun first rose, and never be able to forget it. Why are we condemned to see all things change except us, as we slowly fade from the world? Our lives go on and on, with never an end, until all that we hold dear is gone. I do wish to return to where I dwelt as a child, I wish to be with our daughter that we both have missed for years, and I wish to see the Trees of Valinor again, though their light has been lost beyond recall. But I will never again watch a mallorn carpet the ground with golden leaves, never watch the Anduin flow by, never meet another mortal, never visit Imladris or Mirkwood again, and I will have to leave you. When will you follow me? Will it be weeks? Months? Years? Centuries? And I will have to wait, with no message from you until you come." The last sentence was nearly a sob.  
  
"My darling," Celeborn replied soothingly, "you have seen these things for many years. I know not how fair the Undying Lands are, but from what you have told me I am certain it can soothe every pain. You yourself know of your own will and resilience. You have been steadfast all this time, be strong now for me. I do not wish for our separation any more than you do, but we will be together again. And not all that you hold dear is lost. What of our love? We have been together for eons more than any mortals could hope, and I will be with you again to spend the rest of eternity with my eternal wife. Our bond has not been broken by time, it will not be broken by distance."  
  
"Thank you," Galadriel said. But she did not speak this in Sindarin, she spoke it in Quenya, the tongue of her childhood. "I love you." And the silver and gold lovers kissed. If anyone had been watching them, they would not have seen two powerful monarchs in this room. They would have seen two lovers, vulnerable yet enduring, helping each other survive a fate that neither could ever escape.  
  
Notes: The Elves are separated into two main branches, the Elves that went to Valinor in the First Age before later returning to Middle-Earth, which was the group Galadriel belonged to, and the Elves that never left Middle Earth until the Third Age, Celeborn being one of them. The former group spoke Quenya, the latter, Sindarin. Most of the Elves that came back from Valinor were welcome to return to the Undying Lands, but for various historical events Galadriel's kin was forbidden to sail back to Valinor again. This was known as the Doom of Mandos. The Trees of Valinor that Galadriel spoke of were magical trees that shone with a celestial light that was later stolen by the Dark Lord Morgoth, who was Sauron's master until the Second Age. 


	2. First Watch

I have received warm approval in all the reviews I've had, though I have not gotten very many (hint hint), and because of their encouragement I am going to continue this fic, and try to be worthy of the praise that reviewers have given this story. Thank you to all of you who have been kind enough to comment upon my little effort. I especially feel honored to have reviews from Artemis15 and shirebound, as they are two of my favorite authors (I practically worship them, they are so good). I am also much indebted to both Beylar and shirebound for their example of how to have the hobbits interact with other members of the Fellowship.  
  
Chapter 2: First Watch  
  
Merry was not at all enjoying his watch duty. The Fellowship of the Ring had been traveling together for only a few days, and tonight was the first night that it was Merry's turn to stand guard for orcs and any other enemies. When the moon climbed high up into the sky, he was to wake Legolas, who would then take over. Right now that time seemed very far away, as the crescent moon was just barely above the trees. Merry sighed, for the continuous march towards Mordor was wearing to someone who had never traveled farther in one day than from Buckland to Hobbiton before. He was envious of the slumber that the others in the Fellowship were enjoying, and wished that Pippin were awake to help lighten the monotony. Pippin was the source of all Merry's fun on this quest, but Pippin was fast asleep.  
  
The camp was still and peaceful in the moonlight. The night was chilly, and Merry had to wrap his cloak around himself closely to stay warm. In spite of the cold he felt sleep drawing him in, beckoning to him. As an effort to stay awake, he walked around the sleeping Fellowship and made sure that nothing was creeping upon them from behind. The hobbits were together in the middle, with Frodo in the center, Sam close beside him, Pippin on the other side of Frodo, and a leftover space for Merry when his watch ended. Gandalf, Aragorn, and Boromir were sleeping on the outskirts of the group, forming a protective circle around the hobbits. Bill the pony was a few feet away, and all the Fellowship's gear and packs were next to him. And, separated from the others, lying underneath a large tree, was Legolas. Merry had often thought about the Elf's fondness for sleeping under trees. He couldn't seem to settle down unless he had a roof of leaves above him. Well, Merry thought, Mr. Bilbo did always say that Mirkwood had trees growing so close together that you could scarce ever see the sky, even more than in the Old Forest. But wait, Legolas can't be asleep, Merry decided. He could now see that the eyes of the Prince of Mirkwood were wide open. Though he had never really spoken to Legolas before, Merry would be glad for any companionship. He therefore sat underneath the tree, next to the Elf, and whispered, "Legolas!"  
  
Nothing happened for a moment, then Legolas violently sat up. " Yrch! YRCH!" he shrieked, along with a few more words that Merry couldn't make out.  
  
Naturally this strange outburst startled Merry, and he jumped back with his hands protectively held out in front of him, blurting, "Sorry! It's me, Merry Brandybuck! What did I do?" As he said this he realized that this wasn't a very intelligent thing to say, but he was afraid that Legolas might have gone mad and didn't have time to think about how to react.  
  
At this Legolas blinked and relaxed his tense form. He rubbed his eyes as if there was a mist clouding them, then looked at the hobbit in front of him. "Forgive me, Meriadoc," Legolas apologized, a little embarrassed, "I was dreaming of Orcs, and must have become agitated enough to speak aloud. Is it now the time for me to relieve you of your watch?"  
  
You did more than speak aloud, Merry thought to himself. You nearly scared me out of my wits! But he did not repeat this to Legolas. Instead he said, "No, there is quite a while left. I'm frightfully sorry that I disturbed you, but I thought you were already awake, and I spoke to you out of loneliness. How could you have been asleep though? I saw that your eyes were open." At the same time Merry glanced back at the camp. The Fellowship must have truly been exhausted, for none of them had woken despite Legolas' cry. Then again he hadn't shrieked very loudly, it had sounded more like a scream from a very long distance away than someone raising an alarm. Calming considerably, Merry sat between the tree roots again.  
  
A small smile flickered on Legolas' face. "Did you not know that all Elves sleep in this matter?" he asked gently.  
  
"Oh," Merry said, feeling foolish, "I didn't. Even though we hobbits have stayed with Elves before, I never saw any of them asleep, and neither Frodo nor Bilbo ever told me." He changed the subject quickly. "What happened in your dream? It must have been quite a nightmare to make you cry out like that."  
  
Before answering the question, Legolas shifted to a more comfortable sitting position, folded his blanket, and set it aside next to his bow and quiver. "Mithrandir warned me of the curiosity of the periannath, but this is the first time I have seen evidence of it." Though his tone was mildly reprimanding, he didn't sound irritated at all. "You see, Meriadoc,"  
  
"Just call me Merry," the hobbit interrupted. "Everyone has always done so except when they are angry at me, and I'd rather you didn't sound like you were. And as for curiosity, a Took or Baggins has never beaten a Brandybuck when it comes to asking questions."  
  
Legolas smiled again. "Very well. You have heard accounts of Mirkwood, I believe."  
  
"Yes. Bilbo used to tell us about it."  
  
"Ah, then you might have a rather prejudiced view. Though my father, King Tharanduil, is sometimes overcautious in dealing with strangers, he is a wise ruler. It is seldom that I am needed to help him in his duties, which is one of the reasons that I was permitted to embark on this Quest. My main service to the kingdom is helping to fight the evil that has invaded our land."  
  
"Invaded? You mean they came recently?"  
  
"Perhaps not recent by the standards of mortals, but for the Elves it was scarcely yesterday. When well nigh a third of this Age had passed, a shadow slowly entered from the south. At that time there were none that knew the cause, but later we understood that the spirit of Sauron," Legolas uttered the name with pain, "had crept into our forest and lingered there. This power drew many fell beasts to my once peaceful home. You, Merry, heard of the monstrous spiders that dwell there, though thankfully their numbers have decreased much since when they first arrived. It was not uncommon for Orcs to march through, burning and destroying all they found. There were also creatures of darkness, having no true form, that could strike terror into all hearts-but I will not speak of them. After darkness fell upon my father's realm few dared to enter the forest, and only in the north could my people keep the evil at bay. The kingdom of Greenwood the Great became the dreaded wilderness of Mirkwood, and the singing under the trees gave way to the ominous croaking of fearful beings. The brightness remains, but it has diminished greatly, and we must fight nearly every moment to keep it alive." As he spoke Merry could hear the sadness in his voice, a longing for what had once been. The hobbit thought of the anguish he would feel if the Shire came to a similar fate, and felt a sympathy and affection towards this prince that he had not expected. He wished that he could say something to comfort the Elf, but could not think of the appropriate words. Legolas' eyes gazed off into the distance as if he was trying to see something with his keen eyesight yet could not find it.  
  
"You said that there *were* creatures of darkness," Merry finally pointed out, "so what happened to them? Did you drive them away?"  
  
"About sixty years ago the White Council, formed by the Istari, or the Wizards, as many call them, drove the shadow from Mirkwood. With it many of the more evil beasts left as well, but the borders of the habitable part of my father's kingdom still need fierce protection from our archers. This must have been heavy upon my thoughts this night, for I dreamed that I was patrolling the eastern edge of the kingdom, with many trusted warriors with me. We were resting after having found and slain one of the spider colonies that still remained in the forest. I heard the noise of what sounded like orcs behind us, and turned around to see a multitude of them, brandishing swords and trampling and hacking through all the trees. I tried to string my bow, but it had vanished, so I warned the others, shouting 'Yrch!' which is Elvish for 'Orcs'. None of them moved, and I realized that they could not hear me. To my horror, I saw that my father a-and many others whom I loved where with us, and were also oblivious to my warning. I screamed and did all I could to attract their attention and continued to search for my weapons-"  
  
Legolas had begun to sound frantic, which was very unusual for the normally quiet and serene Elf, so Merry said, "You don't need to tell me any more, if it's upsetting you."  
  
"Do not worry, it has passed. Usually I am not fearful of danger, only saddened by the decline of my home. That seems to be the fate of Elves, to witness the fade and decay of the lands they hold dear."  
  
"If that is true than you must have depressing lives." Merry, though he had always been in awe of Elves, had not considered this aspect of them before. But, he thought to himself, how many Elves have I ever actually known?  
  
Legolas considered this for a moment. His tone became thoughtful, and rather bittersweet at the same time. "No," he answered, "our lives are not filled with tragedy. There are many sorrows and burdens that come with immortality, but there is also joy. I have seen many things in my life, which may seem long to you, though I am still a youth to my people, and some were terrible, and some were pleasant. No life is unmixed by pain, only we have more life than others do. Though I witnessed darkness fall upon the woods I love, if I had not lived this long I would not remember its former greatness and beauty. Even now there is hope, courage, love, and friendships, that make me feel life is worth continuing. Sometimes I wonder what mortality is like, but I am willing to accept my fate as it is now. Who knows? Perhaps Mirkwood may become Greenwood the Great once more." He spoke this in a way that made Merry think he had realized this for the first time, and was telling this to himself more than to his companion.  
  
"When we finish this Quest," Merry told Legolas, looking up at the fair Elf beside him, "you are quite welcome to come to the Shire and visit Brandy Hall. It is a mite crowded, but by then I will be close to being Master of Buckland and should be able to find a way for you to stay. And if you want help with killing the spiders I know a few lads back home with the very un- hobbitlike desire for adventure."  
  
Legolas did not laugh, for he knew that Merry was being serious, but the thought of him surrounded by hundreds of halflings was a bit too much. "Thank you," he said to Merry, "I will remember your offer. As I said before, friendship is one of the reasons I do not regret the length of my years."  
  
"Are we friends then?"  
  
"Yes, Merry."  
  
"I am happy to be your friend. Oh! I'm sorry I kept you awake, now it's your turn to resume the watch!" Indeed it was. The moon was now high over the trees and hills.  
  
"I do not begrudge that," Legolas laughed softly, "I do not need much rest, and with such ill dreams as I have had, it was better to have woken before I shot everyone in my sleep. You should go and sleep now, for I know you are unaccustomed to walking far distances."  
  
Merry grinned. This was the first time Legolas had made any sort of jest, and he felt that he would become very fond of this Elf. "Are you sure you don't mind?"  
  
"Yes. Sleep well, and do not worry about me. I have many matters to ponder."  
  
As Merry lay down in his appointed place and felt himself slipping away into slumber he could hear a melodious voice singing quietly in Elvish. Legolas was singing into the night, a lovely song that was deep and wide and beautiful, it's beauty coming chiefly from the entwined immeasurable sorrow, undying hope, and everlasting joy that somehow combined together more harmoniously than anything the hobbit had ever heard. 


	3. Falling Snowflakes, Melting Ice

I think angst is balanced out by a little innocent cuteness, don't you agree? I imagine Aragorn was probably very fond of the outdoors as a boy, and as charming as any Elf-child. I don't think he would have been a brat. I take issue with people who visualize Elladan and Elrohir as troublesome mischiefs, in the book (yes, they do appear and Elladan has a line in RotK if you look carefully) they sound too mature for that. I think like all Elves they had great capacities for fun and laughter, but were also very serious when they needed to be. Since a fanfic author has free license with characterizing those two, I have chosen to depict Elladan being the more enthusiastic and light-hearted Elf and Elrohir as being quieter and more considerate than his twin, though I'm sure they both loved Aragorn like a brother. "Adar" means "Father". "Naneth" means "Mother".  
  
Chapter 3: Falling Snowflakes, Melting Ice  
  
Snow in the valley of Imladris, known to Men as Rivendell, was not a common occurrence. The most the inhabitants could hope for in most years was a light dusting of powder that melted in less than a day. Every few decades or so, though, there would be a heavy snowfall. One of these rare snowstorms happened in the winter of the year 2937, in the Third Age. Most of the Elves were delighted with the snow, especially the younger ones, but the most excited being in Imladris was not an Elf. One of the only two mortals in the valley, little six-year-old Estel, was beside himself with ecstasy. Gilraen had barely managed to get him to put on a winter cloak and swallow a bite of food before he burst out into the snow-covered woods. He gasped at the whiteness that covered the valley like a glittering blanket, and stared for several minutes, transfixed partly by fascination and partly because the snow was up to his waist, and still falling.  
  
"Mae govannen, Estel," came a voice from the trees behind him, "it is lovely, is it not?" With some struggling Estel managed to turn around. It was Elrohir-or was it Elladan? Estel could never tell which one was which. A perfect double of the tall, dark-haired Elf stepped into view. The only difference was that the first wore a blue cloak, the second was wrapped in a green cloak.  
  
"I must agree, Elrohir," said the one in green, which turned out to be Elladan, "not every winter have we the opportunity to see Imladris transformed. The last time we had such snow was twenty-three years ago." Elladan outstretched his hands to catch some of the falling snowflakes, gazing at their crystalline shapes before they melted. "Never will I tire of these," he murmured.  
  
Elrohir noticed Estel's efforts to push through the snow. "Need help, little one?" he asked Estel.  
  
"I can do it-augh!" Estel had hoisted himself out of the trench he had created, and promptly fell backwards. Elladan laughed, but stopped when Estel glared at him. "It's not funny!" Estel scolded.  
  
Elrohir shook his head and scooped up the indignant boy. "I think that you might have a better time up here," he explained, setting Estel on his shoulders with as much ease as if the boy was only a leaf.  
  
Estel looked at the ground and then back up again, unaccustomed to the new height. "You're so *tall*," he said.  
  
Elladan smiled. "You'll grow until you reach our stature one day, Estel. You have already grown much more than we had at your age." This was true, as the twins had been infants barely able to crawl at the age of six.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Completely truthful," confirmed Elrohir. "You weigh a great deal more, as well."  
  
The hint was lost on both Elladan and Estel. "Can-can we walk all around the valley? It's so pretty, and I want to see it all," said Estel.  
  
"Of course," replied Elrohir. "Left or right?"  
  
"Left!" ordered the child.  
  
Elladan followed the pair. They walked past Elrond's house, and turned back into the forest, going nowhere in particular. Elrohir was compelled to stop many times, for his charge often wanted to have a closer look at the snow- covered trees. Both Elves were walking lightly on top of the snow. Estel soon noticed. "How do you do that?" he inquired.  
  
"Do what?" said Elladan.  
  
"Walk on the snow without falling through. I can't do that. Can you teach me? That would make walking around easy, and Elrohir wouldn't have to carry me. Are you becoming tired, Elrohir?"  
  
Elrohir shook his head. "We can't teach you how," he said carefully. They were now approaching the waterfall, which was frozen in a way that made you expect it to come crashing free any moment. He set Estel on the ground, and Estel sank down in the snow.  
  
"But why?" said Estel.  
  
The twins sat down next to Estel. "Would Adar object to us telling him?" Elladan asked his brother, in Quenya. Estel wasn't old enough to study the High Tongue yet, and therefore couldn't understand the words.  
  
"Telling him what?" said Elrohir, in the same language. "If you mean his true name and ancestry, Father certainly would object. If you mean teaching him about his mortality, I think Estel is as ready now as he will ever be. I would fare ill with such a task, though, and you have more talent with words than I. "  
  
Elladan though for a moment, and said, " I am willing to do so, as long as you assist me when my invention fails. How will I ever explain?"  
  
"El and El!" said Estel, using the name he often called the pair, especially when he wasn't sure which one he was speaking to, "I found a bird in the snow! It won't move." He hadn't been listening to the twin's conversation, being too busy digging around in the drift.  
  
Both Elves looked at Estel's find. The three formed a circle around the bird, which, as would be expected in midwinter, was dead. Elrohir sat closest to the waterfall of ice. Half buried in the snow was a tiny little sparrow, thin and cold.  
  
"It must have been caught by the weather, and either starved or froze," said Elladan.  
  
Estel looked puzzled, saying, "What do you mean?"  
  
It is never a pleasant task to bring about a lessening of innocence, no matter how necessary. Mainly for this reason did Elladan sigh before answering Estel. "It is dead." Three words the child had never heard.  
  
"What is dead?"  
  
"Something that is dead no longer breathes, moves, or eats. It is like being asleep, but without waking up again." I am not one to describe such things, thought Elladan. Neither my brother nor I will likely die, yet we know more of it than this mortal, that surely will someday.  
  
Elrohir was contemplating similar ideas. With a sudden burst of sorrow he realized that this boy, whom he loved like another brother, would someday be separated from him forever. Gilraen, who had almost become the twins' foster mother, while their memories of Celebrian grew dimmer, would also die. Never had this thought crossed Elrohir's mind before, or the full realization of how much these two humans meant to him. He pulled Estel out of the trench and held him close. The Elf was near tears at the thought that someday, somewhere, he would hear that Estel was dead. When trying to understand the world I know no more than the child does, and perhaps less, he thought.  
  
"Why are you looking so sad?" Estel asked the brothers. Receiving no answer, he asked Elladan a new question. "When you die, do you dream?"  
  
"We don't know," Elladan was forced to answer, "because those who die cannot tell us what it is like. Most people believe, though, that the most important part of you stays alive."  
  
"What part?"  
  
"The part of you that cannot be seen. The part that thinks, remembers, and feels. The part of you that makes you good or bad, kind or cruel. Some people say it is your heart, others call it your soul. When you die it leaves your body, which is the part that can be seen, heard, touched, and smelt."  
  
"And some people have bodies that are the same, but different souls" added Elrohir quietly.  
  
"Like you!" said Estel.  
  
"Yes," laughed Elladan, "and with others it is the opposite. But most people are different. Some are even more different than others are." His tone sobered again. "Some people, and all animals, die when they become old, or sick, or hurt. They are called mortals. Some can only die if they are hurt, or become too sad to live any more. No matter how long they live, they never seem older than we do. Many never die. They are the immortals, and the Eldar are immortal. There are people called Men who look much like the Eldar, but are mortal, have less sensitive sight and hearing, and are not as close to nature as the Eldar, or Elves, as they call us."  
  
"And they cannot walk on snow, and they close their eyes when they sleep," Elrohir reminded him.  
  
"Wait, I can't walk on snow, and I close my eyes when I sleep." Estel gasped. "Am I a Man?"  
  
"Yes," said both Elves at once.  
  
"But you two are Eldar."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can-"  
  
Elrohir knew what Estel was about to ask. "No. The children of Eldar are always immortal and the children of Men are always mortal. We are not truly brothers, Estel. Your true adar was not the one you have now, and your naneth is not our real naneth."  
  
Estel continued to look confused, so Elladan explained further. "Your naneth is not married to our adar. Your adar died when you were two years old, and your naneth came to live here with us."  
  
The boy's eyes were round. "What happened to your naneth? Did she die?"  
  
"No," sighed Elrohir, "but she was hurt, and went to-you explain, Elladan."  
  
"Because we mostly do not die, the Eldar sail over the Sea to the Havens when they tire of Arda, or if they suffer in some way that only the Havens can heal. Our naneth went there long ago, and is waiting for us. Some day we will follow her." Elladan had not sounded this grave for quite a long time.  
  
"What if any Eldar do die?" asked Estel.  
  
"Then their souls go there," said Elrohir, "and their bodies stay in Arda."  
  
Estel's voice was quivering. "Will you leave me?" He turned and hugged Elrohir tightly.  
  
There was a long silence as the snowflakes fell softly. Elladan caught a few more crystals. "See these, Estel?" he asked, holding them out in his gloved hands.  
  
"Yes," said Estel. "They are beautiful."  
  
"There are many of them, correct?" continued Elladan.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"There are thousands, yet each is very different and precious. A snowflake is also fragile, and will melt with the slightest touch." The snow in Elladan's hands had already melted.  
  
Elrohir wasn't sure what his brother was trying to say, but was confident it would come clear soon enough.  
  
"Look at the waterfall," Elladan told Estel, "do you see all the icicles that have formed?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Elladan asked Elrohir, "Would you please break off one of the icicles?" Elladan held up the small piece of glittering ice. "There are less of these than the snowflakes, but they do not melt so quickly. It is more difficult to destroy them. Ice and snow are both lovely, but in different forms. They came from the same source, the water, but their fates are unlike."  
  
Understanding of Elladan's meaning struck Elrohir. "I see what you are saying," Elrohir said, "the snowflakes are like mortals, the icicles are like the Eldar. Do you understand, Estel?"  
  
Estel nodded.  
  
"Our fates are different," Elladan said, "we must follow them. But that does not mean we cannot be brothers in all but blood. We will stay with you as long as you need us, Estel. Won't we, Elrohir?"  
  
"Yes. Adar feels the same way. And do not worry, we are glad to share him with you."  
  
Looking thoughtful, Estel said, " If your adar treats me like he is my adar, Naneth can be your naneth too, until you see your real one again. Tell her about me."  
  
"We will," said Elrohir. "Do you wish to return to the House? We could come out later, when it has ceased snowing."  
  
"I'll carry you back," Elladan added, "and when we come out again I'll show you how to make snowballs." His voice sunk to a conspiratorial whisper. "And then you and I will attack Elrohir with them."  
  
"I heard that!" Elrohir said.  
  
Estel laughed, and for the moment sad and serious thoughts were forgotten. When he had been safely returned to Gilraen and directed towards an afternoon meal, though, the twins lingered in the hall.  
  
"I have been contemplating your metaphor, Elladan," Elrohir said, looking out upon the falling, but lessening, snow. "It was an excellent explanation, yet you forgot something."  
  
"What?"  
  
"When the ice and snow have melted, they will return to the water from whence they came, and become part of the same river."  
  
Elladan smiled. "That is very true. And you think the same might be true for the Children of Illuvatar?"  
  
"There is always estel," answered his brother. There is always hope. 


	4. Wish Upon an Evenstar

This is the final installment of "To Flicker and Fade". Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, any new readers are asked to please review! You don't have to say much, just take a few seconds to let me know someone's reading this. You don't know how much acknowledgment means to me. This story has become very precious to me, for I've been going through some emotionally difficult times (nothing especially tragic, just teenage woes, culture shock, and still settling into a new home). Making hope come out of sorrow, perhaps even creating a thing of beauty from it, helps me immensely. The last three chapters were dedicated to Diana, a.k.a. shuckuchi, but I want to dedicate this chapter to someone else.  
  
This chapter is for you, Dad, for being such an encouraging reader and wonderful father. I love you.  
  
For anyone who hasn't read the appendices, Aragorn is something like the sixtieth descendent of Elros, Elrond's brother and the first king of Numenor. The brothers were given a choice of whether to follow the fates of Elves or Men. Elrond chose the path of the Elves, Elros that of Men.  
  
On a side note, does anyone besides me feel sorry for Elrond? His parents were forced to leave him when he was still an infant and never came back, and later his brother chose mortality and died. Elrond then saw many of his friends die in various battles, his wife was tortured by Orcs and had to leave him and go West long before he did, and his only daughter married a mortal! Some people think he was cruel in not letting Arwen marry Aragorn for seventy years, but when you see things from his point of view he is a much nicer person, as evidenced by his kindness to travellers.  
  
The song at the end is taken from "Farewell to Lorien" in The Fellowship of the Ring.  
  
Chapter 4: Wish Upon an Evenstar  
  
Lord Elrond Peredhrel tried his hardest to smile as he congratulated his daughter upon her wedding night. His joy for her and Aragorn, who was as dear as a son to him, made Elrond able to, though a hint of bitterness could not fully be hidden. "Your long waiting has been fulfilled at last, my dear Undomiel. I wish you joy in your future," he told her. Arwen had come to speak to him alone, shortly after her wedding ceremony. While she and her new husband were being congratulated and blessed by various loyal subjects, Elrond had slipped away to his chamber. His daughter had found him standing on the balcony outside his room, which was high up in one of the numerous white towers.  
  
"Do you mean for myself only, or for Estel as well?" she asked her father, using the name that Elrond had given Aragorn while the mortal was growing up in Imladris.  
  
Elrond thought for many moments before answering. "For you always. Aragorn the ranger is not the one for my daughter. Nevertheless, for the King Elessar, for Estel my adopted son, and for the last of my brother's kin among Men, I wish for as much peace and happiness as I wish for you."  
  
Arwen smiled softly. She was wearing the purest white in honor of her wedding, but had taken off the crown of a queen. Her dark hair shone unadorned in the starlight. For now she was not a queen, only a maiden speaking to her father as any daughter might. "My purpose in joining you, Father, was to plead forgiveness. Many were the days when I thought you uncaring and unfeeling, forbidding us to marry until he had proven himself. Yet today I saw your face when Elessar and I wedded and-" her voice trailed off, "I understand a little more." The Evenstar was not a she-Elf of many words, but every word she uttered carried deep significance and was always sufficient. She looked up at the stars that were gently twinkling above them, accompanied only by a thin crescent moon, and spoke once more. "Somehow I never thought of your own sorrow, not for losing me, but for losing your brother."  
  
The Half-Elven's voice trembled slightly, and was only slightly above a murmur. "Wounds heal over the ages, Undomiel. Mine had all of the Second and Third Ages to do so."  
  
"You still miss Elros." There was no defiance or contradiction in her statement, merely an assurance of mutual knowledge.  
  
"One never forgets anyone they loved, unless one had no memory of them in the first place. That was one reason I felt strong sympathy for Estel, who had no memory of his parents." Elrond sighed. "I did not wish for you to feel my pain."  
  
"My mind always knew, but my heart did not until tonight. For a little while I wish to merely be your daughter, and return to Aragorn after." As if she were a young girl again, Arwen rested her head upon her father's shoulder. He could not remember how many centuries ago she had done that. Before she left for Lothlorien, it must have been. Before Celebrian sailed away.  
  
Elrond put an arm around Arwen's shoulder, and said, "How is it possible that you have the likeness of Luthien yet remind me so much of your mother? Her sorrow will surpass that of Melian the Maia when she hears that you cannot follow her."  
  
His daughter's eyes began to brim with tears. "I know," she whispered, "I know. And I know how you will feel when you sail, and how Elladan and Elrohir will feel."  
  
"Speaking of the your brothers, where are they now?"  
  
Arwen wiped away the tears and smiled. "Becoming acquainted with the hobbits, I believe. They seem to suit each other well." She lapsed back into soberness. "At least the twins will remain here for long. Please don't leave me soon." Her gaze was filled with anguish.  
  
Her father placed another arm around her and held her like small child. For many moments neither spoke, merely being together and thinking like thoughts. Finally he said, "I will carry you in my heart forever, my dearest daughter. There you will remain, no matter if you diminish elsewhere." Elrond let go, saying, "Ai, first I lost my father and mother, then my only brother, then parted from my wife, and now my Evenstar."  
  
Arwen looked at him with new wisdom and understanding. "You haven't lost them, Father. Your brother lives on in his descendant." She lifted her eyes once more upon the stars. "The star of Earendil shines brightly tonight. Have you ever thought that your father is there, in a way, looking upon you?"  
  
Elrond could not remember if he had. The thought did cheer him, and he added, "Some say that if you see a white flash rising towards the star, and dawn and dusk, than it is Elwing."  
  
"Have you ever seen it?"  
  
"I did tonight."  
  
His daughter sighed. "Tell Naneth that I wished to see her again, and that the decision was not easy. I never wished to give her pain."  
  
"I will tell her how proud of you I am," answered the Halfelven.  
  
Arwen looked at him. "You are? I have always feared that you were against my choice."  
  
He shook his head. "All I have ever desired, like any caring father, was for your joy. It is only that I did not know that this was the most joyful path for you."  
  
"I think we have misunderstood each other for many years," said the Evenstar. They were silent for a while. Then Arwen raised her voice in song, a song in the High Tongue she had learned in Lothlorien. In the Common Tongue it ran thus:  
  
[Ai! like gold fall the leaves of the wind,  
  
Long years numberless as the wings of trees!  
  
The years have passed like swift draughts of the sweet mead  
  
In lofty halls beyond the West,  
  
Beneath the blue vaults of Varda  
  
Wherein the stars tremble in the song of her voice  
  
Holy and queenly.  
  
Who now shall refill the cup for me?  
  
For now the Kindler, Varda  
  
The Queen of the Stars,  
  
From Mount Everwhite  
  
Has uplifted her hands like clouds,  
  
And all paths are drowned deep in shadow;  
  
And out of a gray country darkness lies  
  
On the foaming waves between us,  
  
And mist covers the jewels of Calacirya for ever.  
  
Now lost, lost to those in the East is Valimar!]  
  
To her surprise, her father joined her in singing the last verse. Their voices blended perfectly into the still night.  
  
[Farewell! Maybe thou shalt find Valimar. Maybe even thou shalt find it. Farewell!] 


End file.
